


A Wizard's Debt

by Syven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 21:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11239305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syven/pseuds/Syven
Summary: Originally written on 10/29/2006 as a writing prompt. Set after HBP, the trio are 18.





	A Wizard's Debt

“Get up, Granger,” Draco Malfoy hissed as softly as he could, breathing heavily as he tried to pull the brunette to her feet. They were deep in the Forbidden Forest, nearly three quarters of the way up the mountain that overlooked Hogwarts at 3 a.m. The pitch darkness of the forest would not have changed one iota if it had been 12 noon but the time made all the difference to the pair. 

The cold ground beneath her knees was a sharp reminder of their peril. She was lightheaded with fatigue, exhaustion and blood loss, struggling weakly to remove herself from his grasp. “Just fucking leave me, Malfoy.”

The tall blond wizard jerked the struggling witch up and caught her in a tight embrace, hissing angrily. “That’s not Goyle out there, Granger. That’s not Crabbe. That’s Rodolphus Lestrange hunting us so I suggest you get your shit together.”

“Go, Malfoy. Just go,” Hermione whispered, sliding her hands up his chest to push weakly at him. The tickle on the inside of her leg was only blood dripping from one of the many wounds she had received both at the hands of the Death Eaters and on their trek across the forest. Growling softly, she insisted. “You have the information they need, damnit.”

Draco frowned, unable to read her expression in the absolute darkness but he could feel her fluttering heartbeat against his chest and his stomach clenched uneasily at her words. He shivered and tightened his arms around her before he could stop himself. “Potter will try to kill me if I show up without you.”

“No, he…” Hermione murmured, the blood loss finally robbing her of conscious control and she crumbled in the young wizard’s arms.

Looking down at her slack, shadowed features, the wizard didn’t think about how far they had to go, he didn’t think about how much the young witch weighted, he just slipped down her body and hoisted her over his shoulder, wrapping one arm around both her thighs tightly as he broke into a hard, loping run across the mountainside. 

He ran for more than an hour, zigzagging across the side of the mountain to leave a dodgy trail, before he found what he was searching for - a cave deep enough to hide their magical signatures and he dove inside without hesitation. It took nearly ten minutes of hunting to find the furthest chamber and then he slowly lowered the witch from his shoulder. 

He didn’t dare use magic to light a fire. That was out of the question entirely. Their survival depended upon it. She was too weak to disapparate and even if she could, she couldn’t make it to the safety of the castle before his crazed uncle caught up with them.

Wrapping the young witch in his cloak, on his lap, Draco buried his nose in her soft brunette locks, his arms tightly around her as he struggled to stay awake.

“Malfoy?” Hermione whispered softly, coming awake slowly. She was aware of the very male body she was pressed against and held to but she didn’t panic. Her wand was still firmly in her grasp and she sensed her companion’s alertness.

His arms tightened again, briefly. The words he spoke were soft and heavy with sleep. “Here, Granger. Go back to sleep.”

“They need to know he’s hurt, Malfoy. The whole reason I went was to accomplish this and they need to know. Harry needs to know so he can… you know,” She tried to disentangle herself from his grasp but he would not let her go.

“They’ll be almost there by now, Granger. Do you honestly think Saint Potter is going to believe me? Cause I’m pretty sure Hero Boy is just going to try to kill me on sight without you,” came the wizard’s trademark sneer.

“I gave you the code word, Malfoy. Harry will know it came from me. Honestly, I’m beginning to think you’re just a big coward,” she deliberately baited him, playing on his arrogance to send him straight to Harry.

His response came with his warm breath - at her ear. “If I disapparate too close to you, Granger, it will bring my uncle down on you. Is this worth your life?”

“Yes. Please, Draco. Go,” Hermione whispered sharply, turning her head away from the warmth of his body.

There was only a sharp intake of breath before he moved, gently shifting her off his lap and then he was gone in a fluttering wisp of robes swirling in the cocoon of the chamber. Hermione exhaled and bit back a sob as she shifted her weight, bringing back the stabbing pain in her chest. She was fairly certain that two of her ribs were broken but she had not told the wizard. The shuttering tremors of the Crucio’s racing through her body served only to remind her that the renowned, insane death eater would find very little sport in her.

She drifted off again as the cold and loss of blood took its toll on the young witch. A half-hour passed when she came awake with a start at the sound of footfalls. The chamber grew brighter as a light source came down the tunnel only to stop in the entry and then, a voice spoke - familiar in its depth and silky nature. “It’s a dead end, Rodolphus. Try the next one.”

In the dim light, Hermione saw the Potion Master set two vials on the ground with a nod before he retreated the way he came, taking his light with him. The young witch waited as long as she dared before edging around the curve of the wall, feeling her hand out in front of herself until finally, finally, her fingers brushed the cool glass and she wasted no time uncorking the vial and drinking the contents down. 

Exhausted from her efforts, Hermione curled up on the ground against the tunnel wall as the healing potion began to take effect and her chest was racked with pain as the ribs knitted themselves back together. Her smaller wounds vanished and the large ones closed but it was little matter to the witch – her body was on fire with pain and she bit the back of her hand to keep from crying out. She welcomed the oblivion of darkness, her hand still clenched between her teeth and it was the movement of her hand that woke her once again to a dimly light cave. A single lit Muggle match lay on the ground beside her and she felt strong hands tentatively lifting the edge of her robe.

“Don’t even think about it, Malfoy,” Hermione hissed, swatting at his hands irritably.

Holding up an empty vial, the blond squinted suspiciously. “Where did you get these?”

“Snape. He turned your uncle away from finding me,” she whispered, her fear returning like a sledgehammer to her chest. The young witch struggled to stand but slumped against the chamber wall as her legs gave out under her.

The younger Malfoy moved with fluid grace, catching Hermione to his lean, firm body. “Please stop, Granger. You’re only hurting yourself more.”

“Harry?” She murmured softly, sighing as she lowered her head to his shoulder in resignation.

“Is at St. Mungo’s with the Weasel. They’ll be fine, just cuts and bruises. Voldemort is gone, Granger. That potion, whatever you did with it, it dropped his defenses – it worked.” Unconsciously his hand came up to stroke her hair.

Unbidden, her thoughts flew back to the previous night. Rodolphus Lestrange had managed to disarm her only seconds after the vial broke on the Dark Lord’s chest, the deep amber liquid instantly passing through the fabric of his robe to seer into his pale skin with the agony of liquid fire. The Dark Lord roared in pain, flinging the petite witch across the room and his followers closed in around her in outrage, flinging one _Crucio_ after another at the defenseless witch without hesitation. 

Hermione was certain that she was just one _Crucio_ shy of being a neighbor for the Longbottom’s when a single Death Eater hissed two words _”Avada Kedavra!”_ and she waited for death to strike but instead, the body of Bellatrix Lestrange hit the ground beside her and she felt a hand wrap tightly around her wrist and the familiar tug of a side-along disapparation overtook the petite brunette.

“Why?” Hermione whispered, her hand sliding up the blond wizard’s arm to curl over his shoulder.

Draco gently lowered the witch to the cave floor, easing her onto his lap. Bone weary exhaustion infiltrated his voice. “They would have killed you, Granger. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let that happen.”

Hermione tilted her head back to meet his unreadable gray gaze. “I would have thought you’d welcome that.”

“I found I didn’t, Granger,” he sighed, the conflict seeping from his voice. “I can’t explain now. Do you think you can disapparate now?”

“Your uncle?” She asked, feeling in her pockets for her wand.

The graceful blond held her wand out to her, holding just a second longer than necessary but he didn’t meet her gaze. “The Mark remains. There was no call to return, at least not for me. He’s still out there… I can feel it. But, look, here’s what you’re going to do. Give me a couple of minutes to clear the cave then go…”

“No,” she interrupted quickly, the light in her eyes dancing fiercely.

He demanded, lifting his chin with arrogance. “What do you mean, no?”

“Which part of no was confusing, Malfoy?” Hermione huffed indignantly. “I know what you’re planning and I’m not going to let you do it.”

“Granger… these potions… the effects are temporary and short lived. We’re still a long way from the castle,” he replied smoothly, standing and taking a few steps away.

“Don’t make me hex you, Malfoy. I can make it to the castle now and we have better chances if we stick together,” dhe shook her head and held out a hand to the scowling wizard.

Draco hesitated, then stepped toward the witch, enveloping her small, pale hand in his, fingers curling around tightly, asking softly. “Will you trust me, Hermione?”

Startled brown eyes blinked before the petite brunette nodded solemnly, letting the young wizard pull her up against his chest holding her there for a long moment before he turned and crouched. “Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on.”

“You can’t piggy-back carry me through the forest, Draco.” She smothered a sudden giggle as his hands slid down her thighs to curl around the back of her knees, forcing her to cling to him as he stood.

Hitching the witch higher on his back, Draco set his pace at something slower than a full out run, cutting across the forest as quickly as possible. An hour later, he staggered out of the forest behind Hagrid’s cottage, sweat pouring down his face making it shimmer in the moonlight.

The sound of branches breaking galvanized the young wizard and he deftly picked his way up the stone steps passing into the warded safety of the castle walkways quickly, finding the halls dark and eerily quiet. Stopping before the Great Hall, the young wizard made a calculated decision, turning for the Slytherin Head Boy’s chambers, taking two steps at a time to push the portrait aside with a quietly whispered, “Cassius.”

Setting Hermione Granger on his bed, Draco cursed thickly at the blood on his hands and he pulled his wand out quickly, swirling it over her as his lips moved silently invoking healing spells one after another, each one stronger than the last. After working steadily for ten minutes, Malfoy shrugged off his cloak and slid onto the bed beside the witch, finally letting exhaustion overtake him.

Hermione woke after a few hours, finding herself engulfed in the embrace of a muttering young wizard. He smelt of wood and smoke and blood and something she couldn’t put her finger on, something that made her stomach tingle. She tilted her head back, looking up at the hard line of his jaw, taking in his features relaxed in sleep and without thinking, her hand drifted up to brush her fingertips across his silken lips. Draco shifted in his sleep, one hand smoothing down her back to pull her body closer, slipping a thigh between hers as his hand curled her bottom against his hips.

She groaned softly at the intimate press of their bodies, leaving her no doubts as to the firm, muscled body beneath the black trousers and partially unbuttoned white shirt. Hermione stifled a gasp when his lips parted under her fingertips, feeling the brush of his hand beneath the edge of her skirt caressing up the back of her thigh to the curve of her bottom. The light stroke of his fingertips across the thin cotton of her panties brought her startled gasp and she glanced up frantically to meet steely gray eyes watching her intently.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice husky, his fingers tracing light patterns on the back of her thigh.

She blushed, answering breathlessly. “Much better… You healed me?” 

“I did. What? Don’t look at me like that. If I wanted you dead, I’d have let my Aunt finish you off,” Draco smirked condescendingly, his fingers still stroking absently. “I’m guessing my Godfather is really one of yours as well, then, considering. Look, Granger… Merlin, you are warm… look, I can’t stay here… I need to find my mother… get her to safety.” 

“Your mother is fine, Malfoy. We took her into hiding more than a month ago. I personally saw her no less than 18 hours ago,” her voice wavered at the sudden firm grip of his hand around her thigh at her words.

A myriad of emotions flickered across the wizard’s face before it settled on profound relief. “If my father…”

“Malfoy, there’s something I need to tell you about your father… Your mother made me promise… Part of my mission today was to get you out but there was a problem, they took me to Voldemort first and well, it was only dumb luck that you jumped in when you did. But your mother…” Hermione pulled back now, sliding up against the headboard just out of his reach as he watched in confusion.

“Granger, there’s no way my mother would have asked you do to anything for her. To my parents, you’re a mud…”

“DRACO!” The unmistakable imperial scathing tone of Lucius Malfoy cut through the air and Draco lept to his feet, moving in a flash to the end of the bed in front of Hermione as his father and Godfather strode into the room, dominating it in seconds.

Severus Snape chuckled mirthlessly. “Well, well… I haven’t seen that particularly protective Malfoy move since… what… sixth year when Crabbe made a pass at Narcissa?”

“Miss Granger, I must apologize for my son’s deplorable manners. I assure you, I did not raise him to use that word nor to be so rude, even to someone of your… origins,” Lucius Malfoy glared down his nose aristocratically at his son.

Draco’s eyes narrowed into slits of apprehension as Hermione slipped off the bed and walked over to his side, tugging softly on his sleeve. “Malfoy, stop. This is what I was trying to tell you. Your father has been a member of the Order since before you were born. Only two people knew of it, Dumbledore and Snape. When Albus died and Professor Snape went into hiding, there was a lot of confusion. Once the memory was discovered that cleared Professor Snape, it was decided then and there that one more person needed to know in case something happened. They chose me and Professor Snape taught me the Occulmency needed to keep the secret hidden.”

“Father?” Draco dropped his wand, crossing the room to lay his hand on his father’s arm and his father returned the gesture with a nod and a smirk.

Hermione smiled at the reunion but shivered as an aftershock of the Crucio’s hit her and Severus strode her side in a dark flurry of death eater robes, dropping his mask to the floor as he knelt beside her. Tentatively running his hands down her legs and arms, he nodded in approval as he laid a hand on the young witch’s cheek. His silky voice was gruff but without edge. “You were _Crucio’d_? Are you still in pain, Miss Granger?”

“No, Sir,” she answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and the dark wizard slipped an arm around her back, easing her up against the pillows with gentleness she would never have thought him capable of.

“Stubborn Gryffindor,” Severus muttered in exaggerated exasperation, flashing a minute smile at the witch. “Have it your way. Lucius, now that we have ascertained their safety, we have work to do.”

The aristocratic Malfoy tapped the baseboard of the bed with his trademark silver cane. “You will look after Miss Granger until we return, Draco. You would do well to remember you owe her your life.”

“Sir, that’s not true. Draco saved my life, sir. It is I who owe him,” Hermione interrupted softly, ducking her head in anticipation of Lucius Malfoy’s response.

A deep, condescending chuckle erupted from beneath the sneering gaze of the blond wizard. “Miss Granger… someone of your… background… would not know this but a witch cannot be indebted to a wizard. It is simply not done. That is why it is called a Wizard’s Debt, Miss Granger.”

He walked around the bed to lay a hand on her head in an oddly comforting, fatherly gesture. “I am grateful, Miss Granger, and I was not misspoken. Regardless of the circumstances, you volunteered for a mission that, by all accounts, would be suicide. If you had not been there for Draco to save, he might have fallen with the rest. I am equally indebted to you, Miss Granger.”

Severus rose from Hermione’s side, placing a clear vial on the nightstand beside her wand. "In case you change your mind, Granger. Draco, it may be some time before we can safely return. It is on you now to prevent Miss Granger from doing something… Gryffindor.”

“Yes sir… Father…” Draco nodded, walking the pair of older wizards to the outer door as if it were his own mansion. Returning to the bedroom, the blond sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at the young witch under platinum bangs. “This is all a bit much to take in, you know.”

“It’s all been a bit much for all of us, Malfoy,” Hermione sighed deeply, watching the fire dance. 

The silence drew out and her eyelids grew heavy with sleep but his voice came, soft, pliant with quiet disbelief. “You volunteered? Why? I’ve always been…”

“A prat, yes, well… I didn’t think being a prat was a good excuse to let you die,” she grumbled.

His blond hair swirled and stroked his chiseled jaw as he turned his head. “This doesn’t mean we’re friends, Granger.”

A soft, muted laugh bubbled out of her. “It could, Malfoy.”

Draco turned back to her slowly. Gray eyes lowered to take in the small, pale hand she was holding out to him and the young wizard slid onto the bed beside her, twining his fingers between hers. Reaching over, Draco tugged at her waist, rolling her onto her side against his chest and he spooned his body along hers, their clasped hands resting on her shoulder as the young wizard buried his nose in her brunette locks. “Could it mean… more than friends, Granger?”

Hermione turned her head, tilting it to look up at him, a frown creasing her forehead. “I don’t understand what you mean, Malfoy. We’ve been at each other’s throats for seven years…”

“Granger, I’ve wanted to do this since third year when you punched me,” platinum blond hair shook across his forehead as he leaned forward, slanting his mouth over hers and the petite witch responded, parting her lips beneath his in a wistful sigh. Turning the witch in his arms, Draco pressed the advantage, his tongue caressing hers with sensual languidity, fanning the tingling, lazy fire that burned between them, his free hand moving along the soft plane of her cheek to sink into her curly locks.

“I’m not sure this is what your father meant by looking after me, Malfoy,” Hermione whispered breathlessly, overwhelmed and confused, against his impossibly soft lips when they finally broke the kiss.

A bemused smirk curled across his lips as he shrugged with feigned innocence. “We’re Malfoy’s, Granger. That could mean a great many things.”

“Third year, hmm? Have you considered perhaps I haven’t?” She mused, his lips on her neck, kissing and nibbling their way down as his hand followed on the opposite side, slipping her blouse from her shoulder deftly. His fingers stroked beneath her bra strap and froze at her words.

Startled gray eyes found hers and he licked his lips nervously, stammering. “Granger… Hermione, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Draco… you never did say why… you saved my life,” she whispered, her gaze drawn inexplicably to his.

“I… I can’t explain it… I heard you scream in pain and I felt like I was being struck by lightening… Don’t you feel this?” he captured her lips in desperate hunger, cradling her head as his tongue ravaged her passionately. It was only her soft whimper against his lips when he drew her hard against his body that made him stop, worry flitting across his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

“No…” Hermione blushed, unable to meet his eyes. The electricity of his touch was blinding and molten. “What… how are you… Draco…” 

The blond wizard grinned wolfishly, dipping his head to claim her lips once more before pulling back, leaving them both panting for breath. “You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you? They say Malfoy’s have the blood of Fae, of Veela, of the elven ancestors… Hermione… they are not all rumors… What I felt, what we feel… _this_ is the touch of soul mates.”

“That’s not possible, Draco. I’m muggle born,” she protested, her mind racing over every possible bit of information she’d ever read of the ancestors.

Draco chuckled huskily, slanting his mouth over hers to run his tongue across her lips to suckle on her bottom lip his fingers making deft work of the buttons of her blouse, sliding it from her shoulders as his lips burned a fiery trail down her neck. “Somewhere, in your family, someone was touched. It doesn’t matter where, Hermione. It doesn’t matter who… Our blood knows each other. You can feel it, too. I know you can… the tug toward me, the echo when we aren’t touching… My father always said I would know without a doubt and he’s right.” 

“It’s getting stronger… the more we…” Hermione whispered breathlessly, her small hands tugging his jumper with a sudden, intoxicating impatience, pulling it over his head in one swift motion that caused his blond hair to ruffle, bouncing lightly. She purred against his throat as his hands cupped her breasts, stroking and kneading them gently. When her soft fingertips stroked his chest, he groaned, waving his hand out behind himself to ward the door with a silent locking charm as they rolled over together, Hermione straddling him as urgency fed their efforts to remove each others clothing. Pushing her gently back against the pillows, Draco slid down her body, kissing and suckling her breasts, stomach and inner thigh, making her gasp with the agony of his light, teasing kisses only to moan at the wet, hot press of his tongue along her clit. “Draco… I’m…”

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” he murmured with a smile, his words vibrating against her cunt as his fingers parted her soft folds gently, his tongue swirling and stroking her clit as his finger eased itself into her tight core, stroking slowly as she arched into his touch. Adding a second finger brought a tense gasp but his hand caressed her stomach as his fingers curled inside her and his lips closed over her clit, suckling hard and she came, hard, bucking against his tongue as she gasped out his name, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him up and he settled above her, his hard cock pressed against her thigh as his lips claimed hers once more.

“Draco… Please…” Hermione whimpered, reaching down to curl her hand around his cock, caressing it softly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you, Hermione, but I want you more than anything in this world,” he murmured thickly against her lips, struggling against the urge to take her.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life, Draco,” she arched, sliding his cock between her legs and stroking it against her wet folds to rest firmly against the tight core beyond and his hand went to the curve of her bottom, lifting as he rocked gently inch by inch into her wet heat gritting his teeth as he moved slowly until finally, he felt the press of her barrier. Slanting his mouth over hers, he pulled back and thrust hard, catching her gasp in his mouth as his hand slid from behind her to find her clit, stroking gently as his slow, firm thrusts quickly brought her past the sting into pleasure. 

“You’re mine now. My soulmate. You know that, don’t you,” Draco whispered, gray eyes hazed with desire as he drove his cock slowly into her wetness, changing the angle to sink deeper with each stroke. Watching her face with unbridled hunger, his thumb swirled, pressing harder on her clit. “You’re perfect, so perfect. Come for me, kitten.”

“Oh Merlin!” She clutched his arms frantically as the orgasm swelled and broke over her, riding his cock with abandon as her pussy clenched tightly around him and he could not hold back, pounding hard into her core three more time before throwing his head back, cumming with a fierce growl, emptying himself inside her. 

Panting softly, Draco nuzzled her neck with a possessive purr of satisfaction. “It’s Draco, love, not Merlin.”

“Draco… I…” Hermione blushed and gasped as the blond wizard rocked his hips against hers with a smirk.

Kissing her softly, his hand went to her cheek, stroking it gently as he meet her gaze evenly. “I meant it, Granger. Say you’ll be mine. You must.”

“You can’t be serious, Draco… Your father…” The young witch shook her head sadly.

The blond wizard’s smile faded from his face, a frown flickering across his brow. “I’m completely serious and my father can go hang if he objects but I have a feeling he won’t. Come on, where’s your Gryffindor courage now?”

“It’s trying to figure out what you hope to gain with your Slytherin cunning,” Hermione laughed, her eyes twinkling.

“I hope to gain something I know I don’t deserve,” he whispered quietly. “I feel like… I’ll die without you, kitten.”

Warm brown eyes softened as she leaned up to catch him in a deep, soulful kiss. “Oh, I think you could deserve it.”

Several hours later, the unlikely pair were found dozing peacefully, their tangled bodies shimmering in the firelight, by two bemused older wizards who, after dropping a blanket over them, quietly retreated from the room.

Holding out a summoned glass of fire whiskey to the elder Malfoy, Severus looked around the common room thoughtfully. “Have you considered what this debt might do to the Malfoy bloodline, Lucius?”

“Neither the bloodline nor the debt concern me, my dear Severus. I would think, after all these years spying together you would know what I truly value and what I chose to let other’s believe,” the blond aristocrat mused, settling into one of the rooms many leather armchairs.

Reclining in the opposite chair, the Potion Master nodded in contemplation. “If I didn’t know better, Lucius, I’d think you manufactured this outcome but fortunately, I know Miss Granger better than that. If there is one person immune to Slytherin scheming, it is that young woman.”

“And that, my dear Severus, is exactly why she is perfect for my son,” Lucius Malfoy smirked devilishly, holding up his glass in silent salute.


End file.
